“You look very handsome, Mr Ryan, in your new suit.” Ivy admired the beautifully tailored black pinstripe suit Jem wore. The white of his shirt was almost blinding. She didn’t know that the green silk tie that perfectly matched his eyes had been a gift from Ann Marie. “You polish up real well, Mister.”
“Should I put on my new overcoat for the photograph, Ivy?” Jem wasn’t accustomed to being the centre of attention.
“Why don’t we get some photographs of the two of you in your evening clothes and then more wearing your coats?” Ann Marie walked over to join them. She’d had no idea this evening out for Ivy would attract so much attention.
“What’s going on?” Milo Norton, carrying his big camera, with a tall sticklike lamp held in one hand, hurried to join the crowd. He made his living taking photographs of courting couples crossing O’Connell Bridge. He took their names and addresses there on the bridge. He sold the photographs sight unseen then mailed the couple their copy when he’d developed them. The people of The Lane called on him for Communion and Confirmation photographs too. If a young couple were in the money he sometimes took photographs of their wedding day or, rarely, new babies. He developed the photographs himself in one of his two rooms.
“We need some photies took,” Marcella Wiggins said, feeling very important. She’d never been able to afford Milo and his camera. She was thrilled to be able to stand here and watch him work.
Ann Marie stood back, taking mental notes of the procedure. She listened to the people around her talk about the man and his skill with the camera. With a fast-beating heart she wondered if he would be willing to give lessons.
Jem and Ivy stood posing self-consciously. Milo was becoming frustrated. They looked too stiff and formal. He wanted to capture the light inside the couple. They were a very handsome pair. If he got the photograph he wanted he could use it to show to the couples on O’Connell Bridge. This couple would be good for his business but not if he couldn’t get them to relax.
“Where are you two off to then?” Milo tried one more time to get them to forget about the camera. Pay dirt! They lit up as they talked about their plans for the evening. Milo snapped as fast as his camera would allow. He knew he had quick fingers. He had to capture as many people as possible as they tried to walk past him on O’Connell Bridge.
“Well, Ivy, how do you feel?”” Jem was feeling ten feet tall. He was walking out with his best girl on his arm. They were going to the theatre.
“I don’t know if I’m on me head or me heels, Jem,” Ivy admitted as they strolled through the tunnel leading into Stephen’s Lane. “I’ve never been on one of them roller-coasters you see with the travelling fairs but I think this is how it must feel afterwards.”
“You sure we shouldn’t have taken a cab to the Gaiety?” Jem had offered to have one of his prime carriages available to them this evening.
“It’s quicker to walk, Jem.” Ivy strolled along, her arm in Jem’s, the gas lamps glittering like jewels. She wondered if she should confess she’d wanted to get a look and feel for the crowds arriving to enjoy an evening at the theatre.
“True enough.” Jem didn’t care how they got to the theatre. He was willing to go along with anything Ivy wanted. “It can take ages for the carriage to get close enough to the theatre to set people down.”
“Well, you would know.” Ivy was busy taking in the scene around her.
“You look lovely, Ivy.” Jem looked down at the top of her head. He didn’t know what she was wearing on her head but it was pretty. “Did I tell you that before?”
“You did, Jem,” Ivy laughed up into his beautiful green eyes, “but it bears repeating.”
The two strolled along talking in hushed voices about nothing in particular. Jem didn’t care if the short walk to the theatre took forever. He was having the time of his life and the evening had only started.
“Have you thought any more about the sale of your Cinderella dolls?” he asked. John Lawless had fretted and worried about those bloomin’ dolls until Jem had to ask him to shut up. He couldn’t believe he’d just asked Ivy about them now.
“I have.” Ivy gave a little skip of delight. “I’m going to do as Mr Clancy,” Ivy was referring to the man who came by the livery to teach accounting, “suggests.”
“What’s that?”
“I divided the number of dolls I have ready for sale by the number of days the pantomime will be on,” Ivy said, delighted with herself.
“And?” Jem nudged her gently with his shoulder.
“I’m going to take twenty-two dolls with me each evening.” Ivy had been worried until she’d come up with this idea. It had been a great relief to her. “If I’m lucky enough to sell every doll at a half crown a piece that will be five guineas a night. I’ll put the money in the night safe and then I just go home.”
“Do you have that many dolls ready for sale?” Jem had done the maths. That was a lot of dolls – hundreds.
“The Lawless family have been churning out those dolls for months.” Ivy had been so intent on their conversation they’d passed the Shelbourne Hotel without her noticing. They were almost at the theatre. “By having such a small number for sale every night I’m hoping people will come to know that you have to get in quick. I’m going to be creating a demand for my product.” Ivy giggled, delighted with herself. They were Mr Clancy’s words but she liked the sound of them.
“There will be no stopping you, Ivy Murphy.” Jem shook his head, lost in admiration. What could this woman have achieved if she’d been supported as she should have been?
“Merciful Lord!” Ivy gasped at the crowd. Not so much at the smartly dressed people gathered around the Gaiety – she had seen them when she’d been here the other evening – but this was the ordinary people of Dublin and they were everywhere. You could hardly move all along King Street. “Did you know there were this many people in all of Dublin, Jem? Look at all these carriages. How do they avoid each other?” She examined the women selling flowers, oranges and chocolates from their prams. She’d be one of them soon, but not tonight. Tonight she was one of the toffs making their way through the open doors of the theatre.
Jem smiled at her reaction but said nothing. It was a familiar scene to him, though he was usually one of the drivers trying to drop their passengers down in front of the theatre before going to wait around Stephen’s Green to see if they could pick up another fare.
“Ivy,” Jem put his hand over hers on his arm, “you’re pinching the life out of me. And I need to get our tickets out of my pocket.”
Ivy was now staring around at the crowd of people gathered in the vestibule. She had a death grip on Jem’s arm. She was terrified of losing him.
She was breathless as they strolled across the carpet towards the uniformed man standing guard at the bottom of the roped-off steps. Jem showed their tickets to the usher. He was glad he’d asked Ann Marie what he should do, where he should go this evening. He wasn’t any more experienced in places like this than Ivy was.
“Thank you, sir.” The man tore the ticket and returned half. “Up these stairs and to your left.” He opened the thick blue rope-gate and allowed the well-dressed couple to pass.
Ivy was afraid to open her mouth. She allowed Jem to lead her up the stairs to the next level and yet another man who checked their tickets before opening a door and waving them through.
Ivy found herself standing on some sort of balcony. She looked around her, trying to take everything in. She knew the people of The Lane would want every detail.
“Let me take your coat, Ivy.” Jem stood staring around, just as thunderstruck as Ivy. He was that grateful to Ann Marie for the detailed instructions she’d given him. “I’ll take it down to the cloakroom.”
“Jem, did yeh get a look at this place?” Ivy stood staring around at the richly decorated theatre. The balcony she was standing on was just over the stage. They’d have the best view in the house. She noticed people in the other boxes staring over and wondered wha
t they were looking at.
“Give me your coat, Ivy.” Jem stood behind her, ready to help her off with the beautiful cashmere coat.
“Are yeh going to leave me here on me own?” Ivy was terrified.
“Buck up, Ivy.” Jem was feeling pretty shaky himself. “Remember, you’re one of the nobs tonight.”
“What are those people staring over here for?” Ivy allowed Jem to remove her coat. She almost fell into the red velvet chair he held out for her.
“They’re wondering about the beautiful woman in this box.” Jem put her coat over his arm and turned to leave.
Ivy had to force herself to sit still and not pull on his coat to keep him with her. She sat like a statue, only her eyes moving as she looked around at the theatre. She was trying to ignore the stares from the people in the other boxes. She had no way of knowing that the crowd were curious about someone they didn’t recognise. The Dublin upper crust was a small select group. A new face was of interest to everyone.
Jem returned without his hat and coat. He put a box of chocolates in Ivy’s hands before pulling a seat over beside hers. They sat behind the balcony wall, the polished brass rail fixed on top in a position guaranteed not to ruin their view of the stage.
Ivy dropped the unopened box of chocolates and grabbed onto Jem’s hand when the music rang out around the theatre. She leaned across the rail to look down into a pit in front of the stage. There were people sitting down there, in the dark, playing music. She took a deep breath and sat back, prepared to enjoy herself.
Jem and Ivy sat enthralled as turn after turn seemed to explode through the opening and closing red-velvet curtains. There were all sorts: people who juggled balls, people who danced – there were even people who came out and told funny stories. Ivy loved it. She wasn’t aware of the passage of time. She sat with her eyes glued to the stage, her hand in Jem’s.
“It’s almost time for the interval, Ivy,” Jem leaned forward to say when the curtain closed to allow one act off and another on. He’d been afraid at times that Ivy had stopped breathing. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the stage for a minute.
“What’s that?” she whispered without removing her eyes from the stage. She was afraid of missing anything.
“I’ll explain later.” Jem was enjoying watching her reaction almost more than the acts on stage.
“Jem!” Ivy squeezed his hand.
Their neighbour Liam Connelly strolled nonchalantly into view from stage left, beautifully groomed in one of Ivy’s best toff’s cut-down suits. His sister Vera, in the pink-and-white ensemble that Ivy and the ladies of The Lane had put together, skipped into view from stage right. The two on stage jerked in shock at the sight of each other and with much waving of arms and pushes appeared to enter into a fierce non-verbal argument. When Vera appeared to notice the audience, she nudged her brother dramatically. They seemed shocked to see the audience but with sickly smiles began their act.
The pair danced and sang a clever little ditty that brought laughter from the audience. Vera dipped into a curtsey while Liam bowed deeply. A black and white collie dog ran from the wings across the red curtain and jumped onto his back, knocked his hat off his head and barked. The audience went wild.
The dog jumped off his back, grabbed the hat and ran around the stage with Liam in pursuit.
“I warned you not to bring that animal to the theatre with you,” Liam blustered.
The audience loved it.
“That animal’s ruined my best hat!” Liam roared, holding his hat up for everyone to see the bite marks. “I’m going to get rid of her!”
The dog rose up onto its back legs and ran over to appeal to Vera.
“Scotty!” Vera called prettily while appearing distressed. “Scotty, dear, come and get your dog! Scotty!”
Ivy almost fell over the brass rail when ‘Scotty’ appeared on stage. It was Seán McDonald wearing his horrible cut-down jacket. He was dressed in short trousers, jumper and shirt underneath. He was wearing socks that fell down over his shoes. She hadn’t known they were going to include him in their act.
“Scotty,” Liam took the lad by the big shoulder of his jacket and pulled him to the front of the stage while shaking his finger in his face, “didn’t I tell you we couldn’t have dogs in the theatre, didn’t I say that?”
“Yes, sir!” Young Seán pulled his jacket free. “You said that right enough, sir.”
Liam turned to lecture his stage partner. As soon as his back was turned puppy heads peeked out of the deep pockets and the loosened neck of Seán’s old coat. The audience exploded. Liam swung around to see why the audience was roaring. The puppies disappeared before he completed his well-timed turn. Ivy noticed the supply of what she assumed was cracklin’ that Seán was pulling from his ‘secret’ pocket to tempt the dogs to behave.
Ivy sat with her mouth open, watching three people she’d known since they were babies entertain the crowd. They had the place in the palms of their hands. She laughed, clapped and roared along with everyone else.
“Jem, it’s been a day.” Ivy stood holding a fancy glass, looking around the lounge bar of the Gaiety Theatre. She’d been to the toilet and almost fainted when someone had asked her where she’d bought her hair adornment. It had taken her a minute to figure out what your one was talking about. She’d smiled politely, mentioned Paris then done a runner. As if the likes of her had ever even sniffed Paris.
Her head was still in a spin from the show she’d just seen and it was only half-time. From time to time she’d catch a glimpse of Jem and herself in the mirrors that lined the room. She didn’t know those people.
“That it has, Ivy.” Jem sipped his whiskey and wished for a pint. He was thirsty. “Did you know the Connellys were putting young Seán in their act?”
“No, I almost fell over the balcony when he came out.” Ivy grinned wide in delight. “They were bloody good, weren’t they?”
“We might not be the best of judges,” Jem returned the grin, “but I thought them the stars of the show.”
“There will be no stopping them now.” Ivy sipped the bitter-tasting drink in her hand. Jem had ordered the drink he’d heard the other men order for the ladies – gin and tonic. She’d have preferred a cup of tea.
“That’s the bell,” Jem said unnecessarily. “Time for us to return to our seats.”
“I don’t know if me nerves are up to this.” She passed him the almost untouched drink. She was sorry he’d wasted good money on the thing but she wasn’t drinking that stuff.
Ivy almost collapsed onto the red chair when they returned to their box, grateful to have its support.
“Buck up, Ivy, the evening’s not over yet.” Jem wasn’t sure about having drinks and a bite to eat with the star of the show. He wouldn’t have any problem enjoying himself with Ivy’s brother Shay but the big noise Doug Joyce was a different kettle of fish. He didn’t know how to act around someone famous. Jem had heard all the muttering about the man around the bar. He didn’t want to let Ivy down.
They sat through the second half of the show in a daze. It seemed to Ivy that the performers had more polish to them this time around. Perhaps it was just that she was relaxed.
Then the entire audience stood up and started shouting, stamping their feet and applauding. Ivy thought the place was on fire. The stage curtains were tightly closed. She couldn’t see anything to cause this uproar.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on, Jem?” She turned to look at Jem but he was as puzzled as she.
They sat there watching the hysteria of the crowd and waited.
Then Ivy almost fell off her chair when her brother walked onto the stage. She had no idea the music the orchestra was playing was known as his theme tune. It was time for the star of the show, the headliner. No, it wasn’t Shay – this was Douglas Joyce, star. The audience continued to scream and shout. He waited for them to calm down, then;
“The girl I love is on the Gaiety balcony.
The sort of girl t
hat you want to take home
Mother always said I’d fall in love someday . . .”
Doug stood tall on the stage and sang his heart out for Ivy. He was aware of heads turning to see where he was looking. He knew Ivy would want to kill him but he wanted her to know she was special to him. He’d hastily written these words this afternoon. It was one of those songs that just came to him. The catchy little tune he’d bought from an aspiring musician matched the words perfectly.
He danced across the stage, still singing his heart out. He stopped under the box Ivy and Jem sat in and went into a frenetic tap routine. The words of the song changed to allow it to be seen that the woman he was singing to belonged to another. Women in the audience reached for their hankies. Doug had them in the palm of his hand.
“I’ll kill him,” Ivy whispered to Jem as Doug danced back across the stage.
“I’m glad he’s your brother, Ivy,” Jem admitted. He wouldn’t have a chance against someone like the fella on that stage.
“He’ll be me dead brother tomorrow,” Ivy said. “I’ll kill him.”
“Don’t be like that.” Jem leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “That’s your little brother down there. The lad you raised is dancing and singing his heart out for you on that stage.”
“You’re right, Jem, you’re exactly right.” Ivy blushed scarlet but she fairly beamed with delight. That was her Shay whatever the heck he called himself.
Chapter 41
Ivy pushed her pram along, heading for the tunnel leading to Stephen’s Street. It was sheer joy not to have to pass in front of the pub whenever she entered or left The Lane. No more drunken men shouting abuse and risqué remarks. No more dreading what she was walking through. She didn’t know her own luxury these days. It was a short walk from The Lane to King’s Street and the Gaiety Theatre. She walked along the high iron fence of Stephen’s Green, a smile crossing her face without conscious thought as she passed the Shelbourne Hotel. Who would believe that a brother of hers would ever be a guest there? Once upon a time she’d been afraid to walk in front of the hotel – now she’d taken tea there like a toff and the sky hadn’t fallen in.
Ha'Penny Chance (Ivy Rose Series Book 2) Page 34